They Say a Fighting Style is Like a Fingerprint
by kimisanerd
Summary: No two fighting styles are the same.


They say a fighting style is like a fingerprint. People may throw similar right hooks, maybe dodge and weave the same, but nobody has exactly the same sort of grace that goes into those actions; the uniquely similar attacks.

And Marinette didn't know why Adrian was late for martial arts practice. He's usually on time, sometimes even early. She had even been doing routine scouts with Chat and had made it on time. He had come in yelling about some excuse, panting like he had just sprinted across town. The coach told him to go get dressed, not even looking up from the magazine he was reading.

"Go up against Marinette and I'll excuse you," the coach said, looking up at Marinette. Adrian shrugged as he walked into the men's locker room.

Marinette froze up. Fight Adrian? What if she hurt him? What if he wins? She'll never be able to face him again! Being in the same class was almost too much, and now she had to fight him? She was confident in her skills, but she only took this class to help her with being Ladybug, for whenever the next Akuma came along.

Adrian came back out, wearing a skin tight black tank top and baggy black shorts. Marinette looked at him, noticing that he looks a lot like Chat when he was wearing that shirt. She had never seen him wear something so tight, and it was taking a lot of willpower not to freak out like she used to. She had more control over herself now.

With a start, Marinette realized she was staring, and quickly looked away. She couldn't keep herself from blushing. She took her place on the mat with Adrian opposite her.

"Greet and bow," the teacher said, reading his magazine again. Marinette and Adrian walked and met at the center of the mat and shook hands.

"Good luck," Adrian winked, "my lady." Marinette looked at him quizzically. Adrian says that before he fights any girl, but she was certain he had said that to her plenty of times before, but this is the first time she's fought him.

"Likewise," she replied. They walked back to where they were before, and they bowed.

"Whenever you're ready," said the coach. Marinette and Adrian got down into their "begin the fight" stance. They circled each other; waiting for an opening. Suddenly, Adrian all but leaped at her, his hand reaching for her face. She dodged to the left, cartwheeling backwards, her hands never touching the floor. Adrian landed in a somersault, the back of his mind comparing her to Ladybug's fighting style. He saw her foot coming towards his face, and he somersaulted backwards.

As Marinette and Adrian fought – each punch being met with a block and a counter, each kick or attempt at a change of position blocked or reciprocated - they were comparing the other's offence and defense to that of Ladybug and Chat, respectively.

"Draw," the coach called out. He put down his magazine and crossed his arms. "There's a saying that a person's fighting style is unique. You two blocked every attempt at an attack from each other. It seems you two have fought before."

Adrian and Marinette's eyes went wide almost instantly. Because they have fought before. Because they're Ladybug and Chat Noir.

Ladybug was at the top of the building where her and Chat meet up at night to report any suspicious activity they found while scouting. She heard Chat almost silently land next to her.

"You know," she said, but didn't quite whisper, "I have a huge crush on you. I always thought you'd never give me the time of day, but… here you are, crushing on me right back." They sat down.

"What do we say to our friends, not that we're probably gonna spend so much time together now? Are we even going to be… together?" Ladybug said, resting her head on Chat's shoulder, her face slowly turning as red as her suit.

"We'll have to make something up," Chat said, wrapping his arm around her. "Do you want to be together? You may like Adrian but Chat is really who I am." He sighed.

"I never said I didn't like Chat, I was just too busy with one crush that I couldn't make time for another. And yes," she turned her head and gently kissed his cheek, "I would love to be your girlfriend."


End file.
